


my mirror, my sword and shield

by placentalmammal



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Dream Sex, F/F, Goddesses, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Self-Fisting, Vaginal Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 20:56:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11216124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: Hella Varal does not kneel. But for the Queen of Pearls, maybe she'll make an exception.





	my mirror, my sword and shield

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Queenkiller and the Empress of Pearls](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11214048) by [itstimetogetfucky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itstimetogetfucky/pseuds/itstimetogetfucky). 



> so some amazing hella/adelaide smut appeared in the tag and it was good and perfect and hot and ended up being the kick in the pants I needed to rescue this from my drafts folder
> 
> and i don't care what anybody says, [coldplay goes hard](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvgZkm1xWPE)

Hella Varal does not kneel. She is Ordennan; she has no gods and the Vicereine does not mandate such displays from its citizen. In her waking hours, Hella does not submit or serve, but in her dreams, she is demure: again and again, she finds herself on her knees, head bowed and eyes downcast.

And in her dreams, Adelaide looms large above her. The Queen of Pearls dresses in diaphanous, clinging silk, her dress cut to highlight her ample bosom. The thin material conforms to the curves of her body and Hella can see the faint outline of Adelaide's areolae through the thin fabric. She stares, fixated, while the Queen of Pearls runs her hands through Hella's rust-colored hair, working out the tangles with deft fingers.

"You would be so beautiful, if you took more time with your appearance," says Adelaide with a frown, her sultry voice edged in disapproval.

"Yes," says Hella, breathless. She is completely naked, but she has not yet received permission to touch herself or the other woman, so she keeps her hands in her lap.

"This displeases me." Adelaide's gentle hand turns to a fist, and she jerks Hella's head back, baring her throat. The stinging pain of it sends tears to Hella's eyes. She swallows, trying and failing to keep her expression impassive. She's flushed and flooded with arousal, red on her cheeks, fire in her belly. She cannot suppress a gasp when Adelaide pulls her hair, forcing her head even further back.

Adelaide's lips curve upward in a smile. "How can I discipline you when you enjoy being punished? Speak, Ordenna."

Hella wets her lips, considering her response. After a moment's hesitation, she speaks truthfully: "I don't know," she says. Her mouth is dry, her cunt throbbing. This close, she can smell Adelaide's perfume. Ambergris and the scent of lilies, full-bodied and almost overpowering. The heady floral scent is undercut by the rich loam of freshly-turned earth, and underneath it all: the faintest tang of her arousal, a bright note of sweetness and vinegar against the sweet, heady musk of her body.

"Useless," says Adelaide with a sigh. "Undisciplined. Sloppy."

"I can be useful." Hella looks up at Adelaide through her lashes. Lips parted, she leans forward, angling her head upwards to make an offering of her mouth. "Use me."

Adelaide hums in approval, leaning back on her throne and spreading her legs a little wider to make room for Hella between her thighs. "You may touch me," she says. "Do _not_ soil my gown."

Grinning, Hella surges forward. She slips her hands underneath the hem of Adelaide's gown and pushes it up past her waist, exposing the damp curls at the junction of Adelaide's thighs. She's soaked through, despite her prentensions of unaffected calm, and she groans audibly when Hella buries her face in her cunt. Hella parts her labia with two fingers and laps at her clit, drawing tight circles around the pink bud.

Adelaide's hand tightens in her hair, and she guides Hella's mouth to where she wants it. She holds Hella in place while her hips rock forward against her mouth, smearing her juices across Hella's lips and chin. Adelaide's slick drips down between her thighs and Hella licks her clean, drinking in her arousal like fine wine.

Panting, Adelaide undoes a jeweled clasp at her throat and her dress falls open, freeing her breasts. She plays with her nipples while Hella eats her pussy, elegant fingers digging into her soft flesh. "That's it," she gasps, shuddering at the firm pressure of Hella's tongue on her clit, "don't stop." She heaves one thigh up onto Hella's shoulder, using her leg to pin her in place, freeing her other hand to touch herself.

She focuses on her heavy breasts, groping herself and rolling her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. Hella watches her, thighs clamped together, and she moans against Adelaide's pussy, breath ghosting across her clit. Adelaide groans and begins to fuck Hella's mouth with new urgency, hips bucking against her tongue. "Right there," she moans, "good girl."

The praise sends a food of heat to Hella's cheek. Flushing, she presses forward more eagerly, nose flush with Adelaide's pubic mound, tongue working furiously against her clit. Adelaide gasps appreciatively, shifting the angle of her hips to allow Hella better access. She gasps again, shuddering and contracting, squeezing her breasts as she comes against Hella's mouth.

Hella begins to pull back, but Adelaide yanks her back down, forcing her face into her cunt. "More," she gasps raggedly, "give me more--"

A whine caught in her throat, Hella obliges her, changing tactics and giving the other woman broad, sloppy licks, tongue nudging her labia minora apart. Hella reaches up and takes hold of Adelaide's hips, clutching at her while she tonguefucks her, bathing her sweet cunt in kisses. Her own clit aches from neglect, pulsing with need. Hella clamps her thighs together, forcing herself to ignore her own arousal while she brings the other woman to a second orgasm, this one messier and louder than the first. Her juices pour from her cunt, pooling in Hella's mouth and flowing down her lips and chin to drip onto her chest.

"Another," Adelaide demands, and her voice is raw from crying out. "Just one more." Her chest rises and falls like a billows, breasts heaving with every small motion. Hella looks up at her and _aches_ with desire. Her lungs burn, her jaw aches, her knees have gone numb. But she pushes through the pain, sublimating her own needs to Adelaide's. _This_ is the only kind of worship she knows, the only thing she can do with her mouth besides start trouble.

Above her, Adelaide sighs, a high, keening note that reverberates off the vaulted ceiling and echoes in the massive throne room. Her third climax is more subdued than the first two, moans and whimpers building to a gentle crescendo. Loose-limbed and content, she grants Hella reprieve, holding her at arm's length to study her face.

"Good girl," she rumbles, and a small, pleased noise escapes her lips. "How should I reward you for your faithful service?"

"Please," says Hella, her voice choked and hoarse, "please, may I touch myself?"

Adelaide makes a thoughtful noise. "I suppose so," she says. "I want to watch."

"Yes," says Hella, breathless. "How should I do it?"

The other woman considers for a moment. "Tell me, do you think you could take your own fist?"

Hella sits back slightly. She considers her hands, her long fingers, blunt nails, broad palms, and she considers her cunt, empty and throbbing. She's taken four of Adelaide's fingers before, but never her whole hand--and the Queen of Pearls possesses dainty, genteel hands, untouched by scar or callous. Her own fist is so much _larger_.

"Yes," she says.

Adelaide's whole face lights up in a smile. "You're so good," she purrs, leaning forward on her throne. "So eager to please me."

"Yes," says Hella, and her voice is rimmed in desperation. She shifts her weight, resettling in a more-comfortable position, and she spreads her legs to expose her aching pussy. Adelaide grins, and Hella flushes, feeling small and inelegant.

"You may begin," says Adelaide. "Touch yourself. And go slowly, I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"No," Hella murmurs, and she slides one finger inside herself. She's drenched, too wet for friction, and her finger glides uselessly in and out without resistance. Adelaide watches, bright-eyed and eager, as Hella adds a second finger and scissors herself open.

Panting, she curls and uncurls her fingers inside herself, massaging her tense muscles until she relaxes around her fingers. It's a slow, pleasant stretch, and she smiles shakily at Adelaide.

"Does that feel good?" she asks. She is trying to remain impassive, but her resolve is weakening as she watches Hella fuck herself. There is desire in her eyes, raw and undisguised, and it pleases Hella to know that Adelaide wants _her_ , not just her mouth or tongue or service.

Hella nods, and she adds a third finger before she's entirely ready. Gasping, her hips buck of their own accord. It isn't painful, but it takes her a moment to adjust, and her mouth falls open in a moan as she thrusts into herself. "It's so good," she says, wetting her lips. "Do you like watching me?"

"I do," she says, and one slips down between her thighs. "You look so good like that, Ordenna. So sweet and eager."

"I am," says Hella. She tilts her hips slightly, offering the other woman an unobstructed view as she fucks herself, arousal running down her arm. She's completely exposed, laid bare for Adelaide's consumption, but she's possessed of a strange sort of calm. She is unclothed but not exposed, naked but not vulnerable. For a moment, she feels something like tenderness toward the other woman, something softer and sweeter than the raw passion their previous encounters.

"Adelaide," she says, sighing. "Adelaide, Adelaide--"

The other woman whimpers, worrying at her lip with her bottom teeth. She's sweated off her makeup, eyeliner smudged and smeared across her waterline. She looks like she's started to come apart at the seams, and it's such a _good_ look on her. Hella looks up at her through half-lidded eyes and wishes she were brave enough to ask the Queen of Pearls for a kiss.

Her pinky finger joins the others with no resistance. Hella allows herself a moment to adjust, then tucks her thumb. It's easy right up until it isn't, and she grits her teeth while she works past the widest part of her palm. Adelaide is holding her breath, leaning forward in her seat, and when Hella's hand disappears inside herself, she lets out a small cheer.

"You did it," she says, breathless. "I didn't know if you could."

Hella whimpers. She's never felt so _full_ , so fragile. Her skin is stretched too tight across her frame, and she feels brittle, ready to crack at the slightest touch. It's not unpleasant, but it is overwhelming. She nearly sobs when she begins to move her hand, slowly thrusting up into herself. "Adelaide," she says, and the name has become a plea. Her voice catches and she repeats herself, stuttering the other woman's name as she slowly pumps her forearm.

Adelaide's eyes skate across Hella's body, lingering on her face and groin. She's touching herself openly, middle and pointer fingers crashing over her clit. Her movements are unsteady, uncoordinated. She's on the verge of climax, and when she tips over the edge, she whispers her name, each syllable a caress: "Hella," she says, "oh, _Hella_ \--"

The sound of her name on Adelaide's lips sends Hella over the edge. She comes with a choked sob, collapsing bonelessly at the other woman's feet. She falls in on herself, trembling, and when she's recovered enough to move, she crawls to Adelaide and lays her head in her lap.

"Hella, sweet Hella." Her voice shakes as she strokes Hella's hair, unexpectedly gentle. "You did so good for me," she whispers. She brushes her lips across Hella's forehead, then tips her head downward to kiss her properly. "Hella," she says, gentle and fond. "My Hella."

"I'm yours," breathes Hella. "Your sword and steel, your lance, your shield."

Adelaide wipes a tear from Hella's eye. "I don't want your sword arm," she says. "I want you just like this." They kiss again, and the dream dissolves in a cloud of perfumed smoke. Hella wakes with tears in her eyes and the scent of lilies and grave dirt clinging to her skin.


End file.
